


Dying ain't so bad (not if you both go together)

by Arokel



Series: Ros & Guil ficlets [1]
Category: Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead - Stoppard
Genre: Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3583641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arokel/pseuds/Arokel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The most frightening thought is that someday, he’ll wake up and Rosencrantz won’t be there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dying ain't so bad (not if you both go together)

He knows that they are at the whim of the story, that their lives are not their own, that they are only convenient foils for Hamlet (he’s always liked fencing, thrust, parry; almost like questions but never any answers). He knows that their time is limited, they are heading knowingly, inexorably, towards death, unable to change course, to turn away, fated to die this way and never know why.

He knows, sometimes, as the noose pulls tight, and after, in the black space behind his eyes, that it isn’t over. They’ve done this before and they’ll do it again (over and over never learning), as many times as cruel fate requires.

He knows that death isn’t permanent (though if it were would he prefer it?), that there is never peace, only fear and questions with no answers and a hand clasped tightly in his; “we’ll know better next time” (but of course they won’t). And yet the most frightening thought is that someday, someone somewhere will realize that the work of two could just as easily be done by one, and he’ll wake up one morning and Rosencrantz won’t be there.

* * *

 

When he wakes up, he is tangled around a familiar shape, one arm slung over another man’s hip.  He doesn’t remember anything before he woke up, but an inexplicable relief floods through him nonetheless. He is not alone.

It is dawn, and the sun is just beginning to spill through the shutters above their bed. In the distance, a rider approaches, hoofbeats striking the cobblestones like anvils, shouting two indistinct names. Briefly, he feels an overwhelming urge to pull the covers over his head and go back to sleep, to ignore whatever news the rider might bring.

Instead, he pulls back to kiss the man whose name he can’t seem to remember, who smiles back at him with sleepy eyes. “Let’s go.”

No one’s realized yet, and he hopes to god they never do.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://www.arokel.tumblr.com)!


End file.
